Two drums and a cymbal fall off a cliff.

[JebNeedsHelp]

Didja hear the one about the girl with the runny nose?

You might think it's funny, but it's snot.

[InterCity]

Pls more!

You want more? Here you go!

That's not flying, that's just falling with style.

 Woody, from the 1996 movie Toy Story, regarding Buzz Lightyear.

We have clearance, Clarence. Roger, Roger. What's our vector, Victor?

Lady, you want me to answer you if this old airplane is safe to fly? Just how in the world do you think it got to be this old?

Leader, bandits at 2 o'clock!

Roger; it's only 1:30 nowâ€â€what'll I do 'til then?

If God had intended man to fly, He would not have invented Spanish Air Traffic Control.

High-performance jet fighter, fully armed with missiles, guns. ECM equipment, fresh paint (stars and bars painted over), single seat, 97% reliability rate, will outclimb, outturn F-16, outrun F-14, low fuel burn (relatively), all digital avionics, radar, terrain following, INS, GPS, Tacan, used only for testing and sales promotion. Now in storage.

Contact Northrop Corp. Will trade for Mig-25 and home address of Air Force Acquisition officer.

You know the part in 'High Flight where it talks about putting out your hand to touch the face of God? Well, when we're at speed and altitude in the SR-71, we have to slow down and descend in order to do that.

And Finally... some good ATC Quotes!

San Jose Tower: American 751 heavy, turn right at the end if able. If not able, take the Guadalupe exit off of Highway 101 back to the airport.

Cessna: "Jones tower, Cessna 12345, student pilot, I am out of fuel."

Tower: "Roger Cessna 12345, reduce airspeed to best glide!! Do you have the airfield in sight?!?!!"

Cessna: "Uh...tower, I am on the south ramp; I just want to know where the fuel truck is."

Cessna 152: "Flight Level Three Thousand, Seven Hundred"

Controller: "Roger, contact Houston Space Centre"

Tower: "Eastern 702, cleared for takeoff"

Eastern 702: "Tower, Eastern 702 switching to departure...by the way as we lifted off we saw some kind of dead animal on the far end of the runway."

Tower: "National 63 cleared for takeoff...did you copy the report from Eastern?"

National 63: "Roger, Tower, cleared for takeoff... yes, we've already notified our caterers."

Tower: "Delta Zulu Romeo, turn right now and report your heading."

Pilot: "Wilco. 341, 342, 343, 344, 345..."

A beautiful summer day with good thermals, near Billund airport, Denmark:

Billund ATC: "Gliders 82 and D5, state position and altitude?"

82: Overhead Coal Lake, 6400 feet."

D5: "Same position, same altitude."

ATC (cool, dry voice): "So should I go get my collision report form?"

Tower: "Mission 123, do you have problems?"

Pilot: "I think, I have lost my compass."

Tower: "Judging the way you are flying, you lost the whole instrument panel!"

Controller: "CRX600, are you on course to SUL?"

Pilot: "More or less."

Controller: "So proceed a little bit more to SUL."

Tower: "Delta 351, you have traffic at 10 o'clock, 6 miles!"

Delta 351: "Give us another hint! We have digital watches!"

Controller: "FAR1234 confirm your type of aircraft. Are you an Airbus 330 or 340?"

Pilot: "A340 of course!"

Controller: "Then would you mind switching on the two other engines and give me a 1000 feet per minute, please?"

ATC to Flight 123: "Slow to 300 knots please." After several moments, it was apparent the crew had not complied with the first speed reduction and was overtaking the inbound plane ahead of them.

ATC to Flight 123: "Slow to 280 knots." This was soon followed by a request for 250 knots from ATC when the crew still had not slowed the airplane.

Finally, the now-frustrated controller ordered, "Gentlemen, the number is 250. Either slow to it or turn to it!"

A MD-80 was holding short of runway 22 during the rush-hour.

Tower: "XXX123, are you ready for immediate?`"

XXX123: "Affirm."

Tower: "XXX123, roger, cleared for IMMEDIATE takeoff runway 22, wind XXX at XX."

XXX123: "cleared for immediate 22."

So the MD-80 taxies to a position and stops...

Tower: "XXX123, you're going or not??"

XXX123: "Yes yes, we're going in a moment."

Tower: "If you would had rear-view mirrors in that plane of yours, you would've taken off five minutes ago!"

ATC: Alitalia 345 continue taxi holding position 26 South via Tango check for workers along taxiway

AZA: Ali345 Taxi 26 Left a via Tango. Workers checked - all are working

Tower: Have you got enough fuel or not?

Pilot: Yes.

Tower: Yes what??

Pilot: Yes, SIR

ATC: Pan Am 1, descend to 3,000 ft on QNH 1019.

Pan AM 1: Could you give that to me in inches?

ATC: Pan Am 1, descend to 36,000 inches on QNH 1019

O'Hare Approach: USA212, cleared ILS runway 32L approach, maintain speed 250 knots.

USA212: Roger approach, how long do you need me to maintain that speed?

O'Hare Approach: All the way to the gate if you can.

USA212: Ah, Okay... But you'd better warn ground control.

[Dman979]

JebKerboom- HAHAHAHAH!

anyways...

Q: How many bureaucrats does it take to change a light-bulb?

A: 2. One to assure the public that everything is going fine, they have hired a team of experts to oversee the installation, the light-bulb has been sourced from the best bidder and is guaranteed to last longer than the sun, and everything is on time and under budget. The second proceeds to install the light-bulb into a water faucet.

[problemecium]

You guys heard the one about Space?

...never mind. It's over your head.

[Superfluous J]

Haha all of these remind me of another bad joke. I just can't stop.

What was the hipster dog's favorite sound?

Dog whistle. You've probably never heard it.

[Sidereus]

I'd tell a joke about sodium, but....Na.

- - - Updated - - -

You want more? Here you go!

...snip....

These remind me of a story told by Brian Schul in his book Sled Driver : Flying the World's Fastest Jet:

There were a lot of things we couldn't do in an SR-71, but we were the fastest guys on the block and loved reminding our fellow aviators of this fact. People often asked us if, because of this fact, it was fun to fly the jet. Fun would not be the first word I would use to describe flying this plane. Intense, maybe. Even cerebral. But there was one day in our Sled experience when we would have to say that it was pure fun to be the fastest guys out there, at least for a moment.

It occurred when Walt and I were flying our final training sortie. We needed 100 hours in the jet to complete our training and attain Mission Ready status. Somewhere over Colorado we had passed the century mark. We had made the turn in Arizona and the jet was performing flawlessly. My gauges were wired in the front seat and we were starting to feel pretty good about ourselves, not only because we would soon be flying real missions but because we had gained a great deal of confidence in the plane in the past ten months. Ripping across the barren deserts 80,000 feet below us, I could already see the coast of California from the Arizona border. I was, finally, after many humbling months of simulators and study, ahead of the jet.

I was beginning to feel a bit sorry for Walter in the back seat. There he was, with no really good view of the incredible sights before us, tasked with monitoring four different radios. This was good practice for him for when we began flying real missions, when a priority transmission from headquarters could be vital. It had been difficult, too, for me to relinquish control of the radios, as during my entire flying career I had controlled my own transmissions. But it was part of the division of duties in this plane and I had adjusted to it. I still insisted on talking on the radio while we were on the ground, however. Walt was so good at many things, but he couldn't match my expertise at sounding smooth on the radios, a skill that had been honed sharply with years in fighter squadrons where the slightest radio miscue was grounds for beheading. He understood that and allowed me that luxury.

Just to get a sense of what Walt had to contend with, I pulled the radio toggle switches and monitored the frequencies along with him. The predominant radio chatter was from Los Angeles Center, far below us, controlling daily traffic in their sector. While they had us on their scope (albeit briefly), we were in uncontrolled airspace and normally would not talk to them unless we needed to descend into their airspace.

We listened as the shaky voice of a lone Cessna pilot asked Center for a readout of his ground speed. Center replied: "November Charlie 175, I'm showing you at ninety knots on the ground."

Now the thing to understand about Center controllers, was that whether they were talking to a rookie pilot in a Cessna, or to Air Force One, they always spoke in the exact same, calm, deep, professional, tone that made one feel important. I referred to it as the " Houston Center voice." I have always felt that after years of seeing documentaries on this country's space program and listening to the calm and distinct voice of the Houston controllers, that all other controllers since then wanted to sound like that, and that they basically did. And it didn't matter what sector of the country we would be flying in, it always seemed like the same guy was talking. Over the years that tone of voice had become somewhat of a comforting sound to pilots everywhere. Conversely, over the years, pilots always wanted to ensure that, when transmitting, they sounded like Chuck Yeager, or at least like John Wayne. Better to die than sound bad on the radios.

Just moments after the Cessna's inquiry, a Twin Beech piped up on frequency, in a rather superior tone, asking for his ground speed. "I have you at one hundred and twenty-five knots of ground speed." Boy, I thought, the Beechcraft really must think he is dazzling his Cessna brethren. Then out of the blue, a navy F-18 pilot out of NAS Lemoore came up on frequency. You knew right away it was a Navy jock because he sounded very cool on the radios. "Center, Dusty 52 ground speed check". Before Center could reply, I'm thinking to myself, hey, Dusty 52 has a ground speed indicator in that million-dollar cockpit, so why is he asking Center for a readout? Then I got it, ol' Dusty here is making sure that every bug smasher from Mount Whitney to the Mojave knows what true speed is. He's the fastest dude in the valley today, and he just wants everyone to know how much fun he is having in his new Hornet. And the reply, always with that same, calm, voice, with more distinct alliteration than emotion: "Dusty 52, Center, we have you at 620 on the ground."

And I thought to myself, is this a ripe situation, or what? As my hand instinctively reached for the mic button, I had to remind myself that Walt was in control of the radios. Still, I thought, it must be done - in mere seconds we'll be out of the sector and the opportunity will be lost. That Hornet must die, and die now. I thought about all of our Sim training and how important it was that we developed well as a crew and knew that to jump in on the radios now would destroy the integrity of all that we had worked toward becoming. I was torn.

Somewhere, 13 miles above Arizona, there was a pilot screaming inside his space helmet. Then, I heard it. The click of the mic button from the back seat. That was the very moment that I knew Walter and I had become a crew. Very professionally, and with no emotion, Walter spoke: "Los Angeles Center, Aspen 20, can you give us a ground speed check?" There was no hesitation, and the replay came as if was an everyday request. "Aspen 20, I show you at one thousand eight hundred and forty-two knots, across the ground."

I think it was the forty-two knots that I liked the best, so accurate and proud was Center to deliver that information without hesitation, and you just knew he was smiling. But the precise point at which I knew that Walt and I were going to be really good friends for a long time was when he keyed the mic once again to say, in his most fighter-pilot-like voice: "Ah, Center, much thanks, we're showing closer to nineteen hundred on the money."

For a moment Walter was a god. And we finally heard a little crack in the armor of the Houston Center voice, when L.A.came back with, "Roger that Aspen, Your equipment is probably more accurate than ours. You boys have a good one."

[DuoDex]

Why are the shorter naval watches called the "dog-watches"?

Because they are cur-tailed.

If moral philosophy and natural philosophy are opposites, then what is a moral philosopher? A natural philosopher?

An unnatural philosopher and an immoral philosopher.

[Prof. Endwalker]

Why can't you hear a pterodactyl go to the bathroom? The P is silent.

What do monkeys and bikes have in common? Handlebars, except the monkeys.

My dream job is cleaning mirrors. I can really see myself doing it.

[Superfluous J]

If "pro" is the opposite of "con" then what is the opposite of "progress"?

[Ethanadams]

Why did chuck Norris cross the road?

to get away from Bruce lee

[Norpo]

Oooh, oooh, are we telling bad jokes?

I'd tell you one, but I don't know any, no pun intended.

[cantab]

The bartender shouts out "Hey! No faster-than-light particles allowed!"

A tachyon walks into a bar.

[Hobbes Novakoff]

Norpo, no punishment if no pun is meant (Say it out loud)

[WinkAllKerb'']

oh ? you missed that info ... i do not ; ) pleased to share back ; ) badum tshhhh tshhh tshhh tshhh tshhh badum tshhh tshhh tshhh tshhh tshhh tshhh tshhh tshhhh

[Dman979]

Just had to say, LOVED the SR-71 joke. :D:

How many bureaucrats does it take to change a lightbulb?

2. One to assure the public that everything is going right, they've hired an expert team of contractors, the lightbulb is the best model available, and so on. The second screws the bulb into the water faucet.

[Jaffa Cookie]

An optimist, an pessimist, a nihilist, and a physicist are sitting around a table.

On the table are three glasses half full of water.

The optimist states that they're clearly half-full. The pessimist argues that they must be half-empty.

The nihilist sighs and tells them it isn't going to matter in the end anyway.

The physicist, having seen this situation before, ducks.

Hey some one else who reads that stuff! WOOH!

Oh in his book he answered this question:

What would happen if you made a periodic table out of cube-shaped bricks, where each brick was made of the corresponding element?

He wrote this as part of he's answer:

You could stack the first two rows without much trouble,

The third row would burn you with fire,

The fourth would row would kill with toxic smoke,

The fifth would do all that stuff PLUS give you a mild does of radiation,

The sixth row would explode violently, destroying the building in a cloud of radioactive, poisonous fire and dust,

Do not build the seventh row.

To be honest he's not lying.... errm... nothing.... definitely not done anything...not at all... XD

That's my joke that i've told you now, it wasn't mine but found it funny!

But? why are there so many people who read XKCD?

Edited April 3, 2015 by Jaffa Cookie

[Jaffa Cookie]

I could tell you a cheesy joke but i have grater things to do with my life.

[TheSaint]

So a priest, a rabbi, a redneck, Bill Clinton, a mushroom, and a blonde walk into a bar, and the bartender says, "What is this, some kind of joke?

[Dman979]

So this dyslexic man walks into a bra.

[JebNeedsHelp]

Why don't they let trombone players on the playground?

They don't know how to use the slide, and they sure as heck can't swing.

How do you get a guitar player to stop playing?

Put a piece of music in front of him.

[Downside Up]

What stage is a pizza in when you're gathering ingredients?

The Prepperoni stage.

[LGRMEP]

A magic tractor was driving down the road when it turned into a field.

[Bill Phil]

Gary Powers enters his prison cell in the USSR.

A fellow prisoner and pilot says, "You, too?"

Gary says in reply, "Yep, U-2."

Edited April 19, 2015 by Bill Phil

[Ethanadams]

A potato walks into a bar and asks for a drink the bartender said sorry we don't serve food here

[livefree75]

A man walks into a bar and orders a drink. While waiting, he decides to make conversation with the guy standing next to him. "What do you do for a living?" asks the first man. The second man replies, "I'm kind of a full-time procrastinator." The first guy asks what the second man means by "kind of". The second guy says, "Well, I keep putting it off."